A
USA TODAY bestseller, Sweet Thing tells the story of Mia Kelly, a
twenty-five-year-old walking Gap ad who thinks she has life figured
out when her father’s sudden death uproots her from slow-paced Ann
Arbor to New York City’s bustling East Village. There she discovers
her father’s spirit for life and the legacy he left behind with the
help of an old café, a few eccentric friends, and one charming
musician.

Will
Ryan is good-looking, poetic, spontaneous, and on the brink of fame
when he meets Mia, his new landlord, muse, and personal heartbreaker.

A
story of self-discovery and friendship, Sweet Thing shines light on
the power of loving and letting go.

********

What
reviewers are saying about Sweet
Thing.
. .

Maryse's
Book Blog - "It gave me every emotion and in just the right
amount. My perfect read. . . 5 stars PLUS!!!!"

Jelena's
Book Blog - "Her writing style is so fresh, the tone, the
dialogue, the plot, the characters.... everything... just everything
was marvelous she is definitely an author to watch out for."

A
Love Affair With Books - "If you are looking for a new author, a
new read or might want a bit of a cry, I highly recommend SWEET
THING"

Book
Addicts - "This book made me FEEL; it made me yearn for a
happily ever after."

The
SUBCLUB Books - "I was hooked and hanging on every word from the
Prologue all the way to the Epilogue, I had a hard time steering my
eyes away from the story it had a fierce grasp on me and I happily
obliged to ride the journey alongside the characters."

Shh
Moms Reading - "This is 5 HUGE stars ~ a soul searing
beautifully written book that now owns a piece of my heart."

About
the Author

Renee’s
first friends were the imaginary kind and even though her characters
haven’t gone away, thankfully the delusions have. She admits she’s
a wildly hopeless romantic and she blames 80’s movies staring Molly
Ringwald for that. She lives in Southern California with her husband,
two sons, and their sweet dog June. When she’s not at the beach
with her boys or working on the next book, she likes to spend her
time reading, going to concerts, and eating dark chocolate.

Once
I was admitted at the hospital, they gave me some pain meds and took
X rays. I had a hairline fracture on the top of my foot and other
than the missing toenail, that was it. It still hurt like hell. While
I was waiting to get my crutches and temporary cast, I told Jenny she
could go. I knew she had to go coach a tiny-tot soccer team and it
was getting late. She argued with me for twenty minutes and then I
said, “It’s not like you’re gonna drive the fucking cab, Jenny!
I’m fine, they’re giving me Vicodin.” I convinced her to go,
but not before she talked to two doctors and a nurse, verifying that
I would be okay to ride home by myself.

On
the way to my apartment, I asked the driver to stop at a market so I
could get dinner, which consisted of wine and chocolate. When we
pulled up to my building, the cabbie got out and helped me onto the
curb. I stuffed my prescription, along with the wine and chocolate,
into my purse and wrapped my bag around my wrist. I hobbled into the
stairwell. Once inside, I looked up and saw Will sitting on the
landing outside of our door. He had his legs out in front of him with
his elbows resting on his propped-up knees. His head hung down with
his hands tangled in his tousled hair. A fragment of light streamed
over his winged forearm. He looked like a fallen angel waiting to be
let back into heaven. I made my way to the bottom of the stairs. When
I hoisted one of my crutches onto the first step, Will’s head
jerked up. He got up and bolted down, arriving at my side in two
seconds. Appraising me, he asked, “Why didn’t you call me?” He
grabbed my crutches and purse and tossed them aside.

I didn’t answer him.

When
he reached his arm behind my legs to scoop me up, I protested. “No,
Will, just help me get up the stairs.”

“You’re
a hundred fucking pounds, I can carry you,” he said and then bent
down and put me over his shoulder. He smacked my ass gently as he
climbed the stairs with relative ease. “You’re a stubborn woman.”
Will was surprisingly strong for a thin guy and I figured it must
have been from lugging the band stuff around for years. He set me
down on the counter and went to retrieve my things.

When
he returned, he stood between my legs at the counter with his eyes
narrowed.

“How’d
you know?” I said.

“Martha called me. You should have called me,” he said, looking
discouraged. “What did she say?” I said, attempting to dodge the
scrutiny.

“She
just said you broke your foot and then she mumbled some crap about a
breathing rose.”

I
laughed. “That was a one-liner on friendship.”

“I
guess. When I called the hospital, you were gone already. By the way,
where the hell was Banker Bob?”

“Working.”

He squinted and shook his head. “Of course.” He looked repulsed
but didn’t say anything more about it. I should have told Will that
I hadn’t seen Robert in weeks, but I didn’t.

He reached down and grabbed my leg, holding it up to look at my foot,
which was encased in plaster. A shudder ran through me and I realized
it had been a few hours since my last pain pill. As if he could read
my mind, he reached over and opened my purse, taking the paper bag
out from inside.

“Wine,
chocolate, and Vicodin? Really, Mia? I don’t think this is a good
idea.” He was so serious it was touching, but I was really okay and
I wanted him to relax.

“I’ll
just have one glass, but I need a pill stat, my foot is killing me.”
He got me a glass of water and handed me the meds and then he poured
us both a glass of wine. “I want to get into the bath, but I can’t
get my foot wet. Can you help me?” I could feel heat creeping over
my cheeks. Will’s eyebrows arched and then he shot me a sexy smile.
“No funny business!”

“Who,
me?” he said as scooped me up. Once inside the bathroom, he set me
down on the closed toilet and drew a bath. I reached over and dumped
about a gallon of body wash in to make bubbles.

“Let
me get undressed and I’ll call you when I’m done so you can help
me in there, okay?”

“Sure,”
he said and then walked out. The combination of the wine and pain
meds was kicking in. Will was being perfect and respectful, but I
wasn’t going to parade around naked with my foot in a cast. I
wrapped a towel around myself and called him back in.

“Okay, I’ll lift you
over and just leave your foot out until I can get something
underneath it.” Once I was standing with one foot in the bath, he
positioned towels on the side of the tub. “Mia, you’re going to
have to let me see you so I can help you lie back, or

are you going to take a bath with that towel wrapped around
yourself?” he said with a smirk.

“No,
I can do it myself. Just turn around for a sec.” He shook his head
and sighed. I tossed the towel and then slowly sat down, holding my
broken foot out of the water. I thought it must have been some kind
of amazing Olympic feat considering how much work it was to sit while
suspending one leg in the air. Once I was in, I rested my head back
on a towel and sank into the water, positioning my cast on another
rolled-up towel propped on the side of the tub. The water felt
heavenly and I luxuriated in the bubbles. “I’m in.”

When
he turned around I watched him drink me in slowly. Although the
bubbles mostly covered me, I realized my position was insanely erotic
with my legs open that way, lying back. The warm water consumed me
and I know I must have been glassy-eyed from the meds. I studied his
beautiful face as he stood there paralyzed; he was listening to God.

“Will?”

“Yeah?”
he whispered.

“Do
you want to get your guitar and play me something?’

“Sure…
okay.” He turned on his heel and walked out. When he came back he
had our wine glasses and his acoustic guitar. He never met my gaze;
he just seemed undaunted. He handed me the glass and I took sip and
set it on the side of the tub. As soon as he hopped up on the
counter, he started strumming away. He played a long intro and then
began singing the words to Van Morrison’s “Sweet Thing.” I
watched him intently. He closed his eyes and let each word linger in
the exquisite tone of his voice.

His face was so determined and his hands were so precise. I was
feeling woozy and aroused. I made sure Will’s eyes were closed and
then I closed mine and let my hand travel down my body as the sound
of Will’s voice resonated everywhere in me. I moved in and around
myself, imagining Will’s perfect hands on me as he sang the words:

And you shall take me strongly in your arms again And I will not
remember that I even felt the pain

And we shall walk and talk in gardens all misty and wet with rain And
I will never, never, never grow so old again

Oh
sweet thing, sweet thing oh, my, my, my, my, sweet thing

Event Giveaway:

The author is offering (5) Signed Paperback
Copies of Sweet Thing and Swag – US/Canada.

I don't know anything about guitars, but from another excerpt I read I'm sure I would learn a lot about them in this book. Sounds very 'sweet'! Thank you for the giveaway!Bonnie Hilligoss/bonhill@speakeasy.net